


the lunch table configuration

by thepsychicclam



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Blow Jobs, Lacrosse Player Derek, M/M, Scent Marking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-02
Updated: 2014-02-02
Packaged: 2018-01-10 21:30:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1164746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepsychicclam/pseuds/thepsychicclam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Isaac makes Derek switch lunch tables, the last thing Derek expected was to fall for Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the lunch table configuration

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iwillshutup](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillshutup/gifts).
  * Translation into Русский available: [the lunch table configuration](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4138800) by [ElasticLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElasticLove/pseuds/ElasticLove)



> written for iwillshutup for the sterek campaign, who wanted derek and stiles hs au where their parents did not approve of them dating. so, i had a lot of fun thinking about why talia wouldn't want derek to date stiles, and then playing with werewolf families.
> 
> This has now been [translated into Russian by ElasticLove!](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4138800)

Derek stares at Isaac in disbelief. He glances behind him, across the lunchroom to the table in question. Scott McCall is throwing cheetos across the table at Stiles Stilinski, while Lydia Martin and Allison Argent sit off to the side, texting and paying the boys no attention. Jackson Whittemore is picking cheetos out of his perfectly gelled hair, and Stiles and Scott are doubled over in laughter.

“No.” Derek shakes his head resolutely just as Stiles jams two cheetos under his upper lip in an imitation of a walrus. “Absolutely not.”

“Derek,” Isaac whines, dropping into the seat across from Derek. “Please? They’re really cool, especially Scott. He’s on the lacrosse team, you know.”

“I am aware of that, yes,” Derek says. “I’m also aware of the fact that he and Stiles have warmed the bench for the past three years.”

“So?” Isaac asks. “Since when did you start caring about someone’s lacrosse ability?”

“I don’t.” Derek sighs heavily through his nose, the heavy scent of school cafeteria overwhelming him for an unpleasant moment. “You brought it up.”

“Because I thought it might make you stop being an idiot and actually make a friend or two.”

“I have friends,” Derek argues. “You, Erica, and Boyd. Danny. If you add in my obligatory connection to Cora, then that’s five whole people, Isaac.”

Isaac rolls his eyes. “You need friends who _aren’t_ like us.”

“Danny’s not like us,” Derek says defensively.

“Whose _family’s_ not like us then,” Isaac sighs. He raises his eyebrows as he stands. “You can sit here alone with your book; I’m going to go sit with Scott and his friends.” Derek watches as Isaac takes his lunch box and grabs his backpack from the floor and swings it over his shoulder. 

Being alone has never bothered Derek. Before Isaac, Erica, and Boyd got attacked by that rogue Alpha last year, the only friend he’d had was Danny. He was content. People annoyed him, and high school was dumb anyway. He only had one semester left, so he could suffer through. But as soon as Isaac joins the table, six pairs of eyes turn and stare at him. He feels everything from pity to irritation to idle curiosity stemming from them.

Cursing his life, Derek grumbles under his breath as he gathers his lunch and carries it, his book bag, and book over to the table.

“Hey!” Scott says brightly. “Glad you decided to join us, too. I thought for a minute you were going to stay over there by yourself because you didn’t like us or something.” He shoots Derek a crooked grin, and Derek just grunts.

“Yeah, no obvious signs of dislike there,” Stiles says sarcastically. Derek just glares at him, and Stiles gives him a shit-eating grin.

Derek picks up his book and ignores everyone as he starts to read.

He sat at the stupid table, didn’t he? That’s all anyone can expect of him in one day.

*

Derek kinda hates lunch. He hates how _loud_ everyone is at the table, even Isaac. They yell and argue and tease each other like they’ve known each other for years, which Derek assumes they have. He doesn’t know anything about them. Doesn’t care to.

The first week, Scott and Allison had tried to engage him in conversation about different things like movies, music, and sports, but after receiving nothing but monosyllabic answers, they stopped trying. Lydia discussed their AP chemistry homework with him the week after that, and despite being the only junior in the class, she was doing better than even him in the class, and he’d always been great at chemistry. He didn’t mind talking to Lydia when she talked about science or history, but when she slipped into “Annoying Teenage Girl” mode, even the sound of her voice grated on his nerves. Jackson ignored him unless he had a question about lacrosse, and Stiles just threw things at his head.

Needless to say, it was hell.

“Keep dreaming, Scotty boy,” Derek catches Stiles say. He lifts his eyes from his book long enough to see Stiles clap Scott on the shoulder. “It’s good to have goals, even unrealistic ones like playing first string lacrosse.”

Derek snorts.

Stiles turns to him. “Oh, the mighty senior lacrosse captain has ascended from the depths of his daily literature to deign us with his presence.”

Derek frowns, and Stiles smiles like he derives pleasure from making Derek miserable. The sadistic little shit, he probably does. “You both could make first string,” Derek says. “If you’d put half as much effort into lacrosse that you do into goofing off.”

Stiles pulls an exaggerated face, feigning surprise with a hand to his heart. “Oh my god, Derek. You are absolutely correct. How have I been so stupid for so long?” He turns to Scott. “Scott, I’ve just been given the secret to our success!”

“Stiles, stop being a dick,” Scott says, shoving Stiles so hard he falls off the chair in a flail of limbs. Derek laughs, and covers it quickly with a cough. But when Stiles pops his head over the edge of the table, the amused look he gives Derek lets him know that Stiles didn’t miss Derek’s laugh. If Derek didn’t know better, he’d say Stiles looked embarrassed.

Scott ignores Stiles as he asks, “You really think we could make first string?”

Derek’s eyes are still on Stiles, on the faint flush covering his cheeks, on the way his lips are parted. Lovely lips. Kissable lips. 

The thought surprises Derek and he shakes his head, turning his attention to Scott. Scott looks so hopeful that Derek can’t crush his optimism. Isaac smiles at him widely and gives him a thumbs up when Derek gives Scott a few pointers.

Damn this lunch table. They’re starting to get into his head.

*

After that, Derek makes sure to focus on his book and starts bringing his iPod so he can slip in his headphones and read as he tunes everyone out.

Today, though, that was apparently not an option.

“Whatcha reading?” Stiles asks, snatching the book from Derek’s grasp the same time he pulls out Derek’s earbud. He’s sitting in the vacant seat beside Derek instead of on the other side of the table where he usually sits. Derek glowers at Stiles as he read the cover and wrinkles his nose. “ _A Farewell to Arms_ isn’t on the AP reading list, unless Mrs. Gresham has broken from her old ways and changed things up. I hear she doesn’t ever do anything different, which I’m hoping is still true. I’ve already read half the AP reading list, and I plan on slacking next year.”

Derek snatches the book back from Stiles. “It’s not _for_ AP English.”

“You’re reading Hemingway for fun, really? Could you _be_ any more cliché?”

“There’s nothing wrong with Hemingway,” Derek mumbles.

Stiles throws his head back and laughs a loud, full laugh. Derek is taken aback by how open and genuine the laugh is, and his eyes are drawn immediately to the long, pale line of Stiles’ throat. He shakes his head when he realizes he’s staring.

“You _would_ like Hemingway,” Stiles says, his eyes bright and shining. Derek’s never really given Stiles a second glance before, but now that he’s forced to talk to him, he realizes that Stiles has lovely eyes. And that really annoys him. “Actually, it makes perfect sense. Short sentences, less is more, nine-tenths under the surface. That fits you perfectly.”

“Oh, like your Faulkner-esque rambles are any better,” Derek retorts.

Stiles narrows his eyes. “I’m pretty sure that was supposed to be an insult, but it’s actually a compliment. Because Faulkner is the best.”

“You can’t be serious,” Derek says, slamming his book down on the table. “Faulkner, really? You don’t like Hemingway, but you like _Faulkner_?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like Hemingway,” Stiles says. “I said it was cliché.”

“Oh, like Faulkner’s not cliché.”

“At least it’s not Fitzgerald.”

“Touché.”

Stiles grins, and there’s an unreadable look on his face. Derek doesn’t break eye contact as he tries to figure out why Stiles is looking at him like that. But before Derek can think about it too hard, Stiles says, “Faulkner had one of the shortest chapters in English literature, you know.”

“My mother is a fish,” Derek quotes. 

“Of course you knew that,” Stiles says, dropping his head and shaking it with a small smile. 

When the bell rings dismissing lunch, for the first time, Derek doesn’t think that it’s the greatest sound he’s ever heard.

*

The next day at lunch, Derek has just pulled out his book when Stiles slaps it down to the table. “Not today, Hale-ingway.” Stiles laughs, obviously pleased with his own self-proclaimed wit. Derek rolls his eyes.

“What do you want?”

“Here.” Stiles pulls a book from his bag and opens it up to a marked page. He hands it over to Derek, looking both expectant and excited.

Derek takes it with a sigh and looks down at the book, open to chapter 31. “Nothing much else happened, all the rest of that night,” it reads. He flips it, and sees that it’s Ray Bradbury’s _Something Wicked This Way Comes._ He looks up at Stiles, who appears pleased with himself.

“I found another short chapter,” he says. “Not as short as ‘My mother is a fish,’ but still pretty impressive.” Derek snorts. He goes to hand the book back to Stiles, but Stiles pushes it back towards Derek. “Keep it and read it. Not as pretentious as Hemingway,” Stiles teases, “but it’s a freaking awesome book.”

Derek nods and puts the book in his bag.

*

That afternoon, Cora finds Derek sitting on the front porch swing, a quarter of the way through _Something Wicked This Way Comes._

“What are you doing, dorkus?” she asks, dropping onto the swing and causing it to jerk. 

“Did you suddenly go blind?” Derek snaps, not bothering to look up from his book. “I’m reading.”

“That’s all you ever do,” Cora says. “I’m bored, go running with me.”

“I’m busy.”

“You can read your stupid book later.” Cora takes the book from Derek and looks at it. “Erica told me that _Stiles_ gave you this book.” Cora smirks at him as she holds it out of his reach. “Is it to the gift-giving stage already?”

“Shut up,” Derek says, reaching for the book but failing to grasp it. “How did Erica find out anyway? She has lunch with you.”

“Isaac,” Cora says. Derek punches Cora in the side, and she grunts and swipes at him with her claws. She rips through his t-shirt and draws blood.

“Cora!” Derek growls, wolfing out and lunging for her.

“What is going on out here?” Talia yells as she comes from the house. “Cora! Derek! Stop!”

Derek and Cora break apart, but continue glaring and growling at each other. “You’ve gotten blood all over the porch.”

“Cora started it!” Derek mumbles through his fangs.

“Because Derek won’t go run with me,” Cora says. “He’s too busy reading the book his _boyfriend_ gave him.”

Derek lunges and snatches the book back. “He’s not my boyfriend,” Derek says quietly.

“What’s this about a boyfriend?” Talia asks, hands on her hips. “Derek, do you have a boyfriend?”

“No.”

“He does, too!” Cora says gleefully, shifted back to human. “Isaac said so.”

“Isaac’s an asshole.”

“Derek! Language!” Talia says.

“Sorry, Mom.”

He pushes himself off and looks down at his tattered shirt. For a moment, he panics when he thinks the book has been destroyed during his fight with Cora, but thankfully, it’s in tact. He sits back down on the swing, and his mom is still standing there, staring at him impatiently.

“What?”

“Boyfriend?”

“It’s not a boyfriend!” Derek exclaims. “It’s just a friend.”

“Who?”

“Why?” Derek curls into himself and mumbles petulantly, “Just a kid at school.”

“It’s Stiles,” Cora tells Talia. 

“The sheriff’s son?” Talia asks sharply. Derek nods. Talia inhales, and puts her hand to her forehead. “Derek, really?”

“What’s wrong with Stiles?” Derek asks. Cora watches between them with interest, and Derek shoves her for good measure. “I thought you like the sheriff.”

“I do,” Talia says, “But honey, we have to be careful.”

“He just lent me a book!” Derek exclaims. “I’m not wolfing out or humping his leg.” Cora sniggers, and Talia glares at her until she stomps inside the house, muttering under her breath something about missing everything. 

After Cora’s inside, Talia sits on the swing beside Derek. “It’s just dangerous. If the wrong people found out about us – “

“I know, Mom.”

Talia reaches out and brushes a few errant strands of hair from Derek’s forehead. “I want you to be happy, to find a nice girl or boy. But honey, we have to be careful with our choices. The sheriff’s son is risky, because if a human found out – “

Derek jerks away and crosses his arms. “Stiles is not like that.”

“I’m sure he’s a very nice boy.” Talia drags her hand across the back of Derek’s neck. “But Derek – “

“I don’t like him, okay?” Derek says, standing up and gripping the book. “So you have nothing to worry about.”

*

The problem is, Derek realizes the next day at school, that he _does_ in fact like Stiles. And when that happened, he doesn’t know. But the moment he catches sight of Stiles in the lunchroom heading for their table, his heart does a funny flip inside his chest. 

It doesn’t even make sense. Stiles is all long limbs and awkwardness, but there’s just something about him. His eyes, or maybe his lips, or maybe the way he teases Derek about all his books but finds other short chapters and brings him things to read. Scott says something that makes Stiles laugh until there are tears in his eyes, and Derek wishes he could make Stiles do that. For a moment, he’s jealous of Scott.

Isaac looks over and eyes him with a smirk, and Derek wants to die of embarrassment.

“So, what’d you think?” Stiles asks as he takes a bite of an apple from his seat across from Derek. “Was it awesome, or was it awesome?”

“It was good,” Derek says with a nod as he slides the book across the table. Stiles’ hands are so close to his, and it would be so easy just to reach out a little father and cover his thin hand with his larger one, link their hands together. Derek thinks their hands would look nice entwined. “I liked _Fahrenheit 451_ better.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “You would.”

*

Stiles brings Derek books twice a week for the next few weeks. Graphic novels, comic books, high fantasy, and even YA books. “Don’t judge,” Stiles says when Derek turns his nose up at _Percy Jackson_. “It’s fantastic.” Stiles had, of course, laughed at Derek when he’d flown through the whole series that week.

Derek brings Stiles books sometimes, too. Old favorites of his that have broken spines and dog-eared pages from too many rereads. Books by Chris Crutcher from his childhood, Vonnegut, Stephen King, even _Catcher in the Rye._

“Of course you like Holden Caulfield,” Stiles teases as he nudges Derek in the shoulder. Stiles has started sitting beside him, claiming it was because Allison wanted to be closer to Scott. Derek thinks it’s just so he can steal half his lunch, read over his shoulder, and generally annoy him.

Maybe Derek imagines it, but Stiles doesn’t move away. He stays pressed up along Derek’s side as he flips idly through Derek’s copy of _Cather in the Rye_ , skipping to the pages Derek has dog-eared and underlined instead of starting at the beginning. Before long, Stiles picks up a pen and writes something in the margin beside a passage Derek had underlined years ago. 

Something about the whole situation makes Derek feel warm all over.

*

“We should hang out this weekend,” Stiles says as they walk out of the lunch room Friday. Usually, Derek walks alone because Stiles walks with Scott, but today Stiles hangs back so he can walk with Derek. Derek tries not to read too much into it. Or the fact that Stiles wants to get together outside of school.

“Yeah, that’d be cool,” Derek says all cool-like, when all he really wants to do is press Stiles up against the lockers and bury his face against his neck. It’s been becoming an increasing problem, this instinctual urge to rub himself all over Stiles so he’ll smell like Derek. He finds himself wanting to do it like once a day, and it kinda freaks him out – he’s never felt this way before.

“Cool,” Stiles says. “What do you want to do? I’d say we could go to Barnes & Noble, but I’m pretty sure you’d jizz your pants.” Derek scowls, which Stiles apparently finds hilarious. “No, seriously. What’s your favorite thing to do in Beacon Hills?”

“You really want to know?” Derek asks.

Stiles quirks his head to the side. “Ohmigod, you’re embarrassed! What are you going to say, the tobacco shop on Taylor? Or worse, that skanky bar next to the gym that you go to after your workouts with your fake ID.”

“I don’t have a fake ID,” Derek grunts.

“Oh, right. They just let you in because you look about thirty-five.”

They arrive at Derek’s fifth period class, and he ducks inside without giving Stiles a response. 

Two minutes after the bell rings, he gets a text message from Stiles.

_Don’t be grumpy. I was just joking. Seriously. Where do you want to go?_

_I’m not telling you over text message,_ Derek responds.

_Why?_

_You’ll make fun of me. I’d prefer to be there in person when you do._

_It is much more fun when I can gauge just how annoyed you are by the state of your eyebrows._

After school, Derek smells Stiles before he sees him. It’s a bit off-putting when he realizes that he’s memorized Stiles’ scent. Cinnamon and something fruity, like peach or some other summer fruit. He shakes his head, because he’s embarrassed that thought even passed through his head.

“So, what is this special place you couldn’t mention over text message?” Stiles asks, bumping Derek in the shoulder. His scent wafts over to Derek, and he finds himself fighting the urge to bury himself against Stiles’ neck again. Derek would blame the full moon, but it was last week.

“The arcade on Magnolia,” Derek says.

Stiles laughs, but then stops abruptly. “Oh wait, you’re serious?”

“You know, maybe this was a bad idea,” Derek says and starts for his car. Stiles runs after him and grabs his arm to stop him. 

“Dude, calm down,” Stiles says. “I just wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. I thought people stopped going to the arcade in like 1985.”

Derek glares, and his feelings war inside of him. He’s a bit embarrassed Stiles laughed when he’d mentioned the arcade. Maybe it was stupid, but the arcade is his favorite place in the world, and he kinda wants to take Stiles. He’d thought Stiles would like it, and his feelings might just be hurt a bit because he didn’t expect Stiles to laugh. But he can’t get the smell of Stiles out of his nostrils – it’s like it’s ten times stronger all of a sudden – and it’s causing his wolf to go crazy. Not that the teenage boy inside him is faring any better, if he’s honest.

“I’d love to go to the arcade. I’ve never been.” Stiles shoves his hands into his pockets and shrugs. “Tonight? We can grab dinner if we get hungry.”

“Yeah, okay.”

Stiles smiles, and Derek knows he’s fucked because all he sees is sunshine and peaches.

*

“Is it normal to just want to rub your face into someone’s neck?” Derek asks Laura as soon as she answers.

“Hello to you too,” Laura says. “Do you have a crush?”

“Yes,” Derek replies miserably.

“That’s good,” Laura says. “Does he like you back?”

“I don’t know,” Derek answers. He’s driving slower than usual on his way home, because he needs someone to tell him his wolf isn’t going insane, because right now, that’s the way it feels. “It wasn’t bad at first, but it’s been getting worse and I just keep wanting to press him up against the lockers and rub myself on him - _and not even in a sexual way!_ ”

Laura laughs on the other end. “Oh, you got it bad.”

“Today was awful. I could barely think straight when he was around, and I keep smelling cinnamon and peaches and it’s distracting.”

“Have you asked Mom or Dad about it?”

“They don’t know I have a crush,” Derek mumbles.

“Uh-oh. Why not? What’s wrong with him? Witch? Hunter’s son? Derek, is he forty this time?”

“What, no Laura, gah. You’re an asshole, just so you know.” 

“Hey, I have to ask these questions, Derek. Last time you called me like this, it was about Kate – “

“I’m aware of that,” Derek growls. He grips the steering wheel too tightly, and he’s seriously questioning his decision to call Laura in the first place. Too bad she’s the only one he could go to with this. “But nothing happened there. I broke it off when I realized – “

“You mean when I realized she was a hunter,” Laura interjected.

“Fine, you saved my ass, stopped me from making a huge mistake,” Derek sighed. “Can we please fucking move on? We’re talking about Stiles. Not things that happened over a year ago.”

“Stiles? The sheriff’s son?”

“Why is that the first question out of everyone’s mouth?” Derek asks. 

“Let me guess. Mom’s giving you a hard time.”

“Cora let it slip we were friends and that I had a crush on him like a month ago, and Mom went into her Alpha ‘we have to be careful’ lecture.”

“Ugh, I hate that lecture.”

“Me, too.” They’re silent for a moment, a feeling of solidarity between them. “I haven’t mentioned Stiles since, so she doesn’t know that I like him or that we’re hanging out tonight. So, you see why I can’t go to Mom or Dad and ask them? I mean, we’ve had the sex talk, but it’s not like they described this.”

“It’s normal,” Laura says, her voice half-amused and half-understanding. “You’ve never felt this before?”

“No.”

“Not with Kate or Paige. No one?”

“Nope.”

“Interesting.”

“What’s that mean?” Derek asks.

“It just means interesting,” Laura replies. “Look, you just really _really_ like Stiles, and so does your wolf, so all of you is on board. You’re getting the urge to mark and claim. It’s perfectly natural, and doesn’t hit until puberty.”

“Great,” Derek drawls. 

“Don’t worry, Derek. You’re just a late bloomer; I wanted to mark a guy in my algebra class in the eighth grade. We ended up making out under the bleachers in P.E. Mom was kinda mortified. I thought it was funny.” Derek snorts, but then realizes what this new information means. Maybe his crush on Stiles is a bit more serious than he realized, which is kind of troubling.

“I’m not good at this, Laura. I mean, today he was talking to me and it just suddenly got ten times worse, like he was just oozing his scent everywhere, and it was all I could do not to maul him.”

“He likes you, too.”

“He doesn’t.”

“Oh, he does. That ten times worse thing? He’s giving off some strong pheromones, and your wolf knows that he’s interested.”

“I swear, Laura, if you’re fucking with me, I will – “

“Derek,” Laura cuts in. “I wouldn’t mess with you about something like this. You called me to ask for advice. That’s a biggy.”

“Don’t tell Mom,” Derek says.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

*

“Dude, you okay?” Stiles asks when he walks up to Derek outside of the arcade. Derek had told his mom he was going to the arcade, so he hadn’t lied. He just failed to tell her who he was going with. Cora was borrowing his car for the night so she could go out with her friends, and Derek had been freaking out since she dropped him off. He had surreptitiously sniffed his armpits when he saw Stiles drive up to make sure he hadn’t sweated through all his deodorant. He felt clammy and gross, and Stiles had just gotten there. “You look a little…weird.”

“I’m fine,” Derek says. Stiles shrugs and follows Derek inside. 

A few regulars wave at Derek, and Stiles watches him with interest, but remains quiet as Derek goes to the change machine and gets ten dollars worth of quarters.

“We need a bucket,” Stiles says as he watches Derek collect the quarters and put them in his pockets. “Like those old ladies you see on TV at the slots in Vegas.” He grins, and Derek scoops quarters into Stiles’ hands. “Aww, are you buying my games?”

“You’re getting the next round,” Derek says, and he tries to ignore the way Stiles blushes slightly.

“So, what first?” Stiles asks as they walk through the myriad games. There are aisles of different kinds of games, with newer games up front, racing games along the right wall, DDR on the left. The lighting is dim, and the room is filled with the incessant sound of computerized beeps. “Is there Donkey Kong? Ooh, or what about Pac Man?” 

“Both.”

“Pac Man! Can we play Pac Man?” Stiles asks eagerly, and Derek nods, a small smile tugging at his mouth. He leads Stiles to the back of the arcade, where rows of vintage game consoles are set up. Stiles walks by them slowly, his mouth open as he touches them reverently. “How have I never been here before? I’ve wasted my youth, _wasted it_ , Derek.”

Derek relaxes. He feels ridiculously pleased that Stiles is so impressed by the vintage games instead of thinking Derek is lame. He has a PS4 at home, along with an XBox and Wii, but he’s always loved old games. He goes to his old NES before his PS4, and he spent endless hours standing in front of these machines growing up, and they helped him through every problem he’s ever had with their repetitive actions and mindless puzzles. 

When they get to Derek’s favorite Pac-Man machine, he leans against the side as Stiles slides quarters into it. “I don’t think I’ve ever actually played a real arcade game,” Stiles says as he fondles the joystick lightly. Derek shifts uncomfortably, the sight of Stiles’ fingers brushing across the controls insanely hot. 

Stiles hits the start button, and Derek watches him play. He makes it through the first few levels, but he’s pretty terrible. Derek remains silent and just watches the look of concentration on Stiles’ face, the way his tongue sticks between his lips, the quiet way he curses under his breath. “Dude, this is awesome,” Stiles says as he hits a power pellet and goes after the enemies. “Take that suckas,” Stiles yells as Pac-Man eats two of them.

Stiles makes it to level sixteen before he loses all his lives. “That was awesome, right?” Stiles turns to him and asks excitedly. “I did great, right? Tell me how awesome I was.”

“You did okay.”

“Okay? Do you see that score? I believe that’s over a hundred thousand.”

Derek steps up to the game, pushing Stiles out of the way with his hip. Stiles barely budges, stays right in Derek’s personal space. It’s nothing but peaches and cinnamon, and Derek’s hand shakes slightly as he slips the quarters in the machine.

“How good are you at this?” Stiles asks. He’s pushed up against Derek’s back, his chin hovering as he watches over Derek’s shoulder. It’s nothing but firm heat, and the proximity is making Derek’s heart do funny things in his chest. “Probably pretty good, right?”

“You could say that.” Derek hits start with a smirk. He’s totally going to show off for Stiles. 

Stiles spends the first half hour glued to Derek’s back, and at first Derek thinks it would be distracting, but he finds it comforting. He relaxes into the feel of Stiles’ warmth behind him, relishes the feeling of his body so close. Stiles moves over to the side of the machine and starts fidgeting as Derek starts closing in on an hour, and then Stiles disappears for a few minutes and returns with a soda and candy.

“You still haven’t lost a life?” Stiles asks, behind Derek once again. 

“Nope.”

“You’re making me look bad,” Stiles says, nibbling on the end of a Twizzler. “You had me thinking I did well when I played.”

“I’ve had a lot more practice.”

“Want a Twizzler?” Stiles asks a few minutes later. He holds the bag out under Derek’s nose, but Derek doesn’t miss a beat. He turns Pac-Man around a corner, easily missing Clyde before he touches him.

“In a minute,” Derek replies distractedly. 

“You know, Twizzlers are the best candy.”

“Yeah?” Derek almost gets eaten by an enemy, and quickly turns around and goes the other way.

Stiles says, “They make mouths happy.” He leans closer, his lips hovering right beside Derek’s ear. “They’re not the only things that make mouths happy.” Stiles sways just enough so that his lips brush Derek’s ear on the last word, and Derek loses all his concentration and totally runs directly into Blinky.

He looks over at Stiles, who’s oh-so-innocently sucking on a Twizzler. Derek grips the sides of the machine to keep himself from shoving Stiles up against it and rubbing himself all over Stiles. And the thought of pressing Stiles up against the machine, while Stiles’ lips are wrapped around the Twizzler…

“Derek?” Stiles smirks. “You okay?”

“Fine.” Derek shakes his head and turns back to the game, but suddenly, he’s not so interested in it anymore. He kills himself on purpose. Stiles pushes himself up against Derek again under the guise of staring at the high score screen.

Stiles slaps him gently. “You didn’t tell me you had the highest score! You don’t play fair.”

“Are you impressed?” Derek asks, eyebrow arched.

“Oh yeah. You are the Pac- _Man_.” Derek rolls his eyes and walks away before he drowns in Stiles. Though, he’s pretty sure he’s drowning already.

*

Derek watches Stiles play Donkey Kong, and then they play Skee ball and a racing game with Stiles’ ten dollars after they spend Derek’s money. When they’ve spent their last quarter, they grab burgers at the diner next door, and then Stiles offers Derek a ride when he mentions calling Cora to pick him up. Derek hesitates, worried about his mom, but he doesn’t exactly want to leave Stiles yet. And she can’t stop them from being friends. 

“I had fun tonight,” Stiles says when they’re in the Jeep, driving out of town towards the Preserve. “I’m so going back to the arcade as soon as I can. Scott would _love_ that place.”

Derek tries not to feel jealous that Stiles wants to take someone else, and fails miserably. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“Next time, I’ll take you somewhere I like,” Stiles says. He shifts slightly in his seat, and Derek smells peaches and cinnamon. “You know, if you want, or whatever.”

Derek looks down at his hands to hide his grin. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

They talk about school, lacrosse, and music the rest of the way to Derek’s house, and Derek’s reluctant to leave when Stiles rolls to a stop in the driveway. But no matter what Laura had said, and despite the mild flirting, Derek’s still not convinced Stiles likes him as more than a friend. And Derek might just be a bit of a coward.

“So, I’ll see you Monday?” Stiles says, and Derek nods as he opens the Jeep’s passenger side door.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.” 

Derek shuts the door and then smiles at Stiles through the glass. Stiles gives him a small wave, and then Derek hurries across the yard. When he’s inside the house, he leans back against the door, a ridiculous grin across his face.

But suddenly, the sound of feet running across the yard and a pounding heartbeat slices through his good mood. Derek’s immediately on alert, and he yanks open the door and is confused when he finds Stiles jogging up the stairs onto the porch. 

Without a word, Stiles cups Derek’s face in both his hands and kisses him. His lips are soft and hesitant, and his hands are warm and clammy. Derek can feel Stiles’ heart pounding through his palms, and the worry from moments before has morphed into surprise and excitement. The kiss is chaste, but it makes Derek’s body alight with sensation until he’s tingling all over. He’s completely surrounded by Stiles, and it’s the best feeling in the world. He settles his hands on Stiles’ hips as he leans into further the kiss. 

Stiles pulls away too soon, his eyes bright even in the dark. There’s a faint flush to his cheeks and he keeps his eyes open as he slowly pecks Derek on the lips once more before running off the porch and back to the Jeep. Stiles waves before he cranks the Jeep and drives down the driveway. 

Derek stands on the porch, watching until the taillights have long disappeared and the scent of peaches and cinnamon has disappeared.

*

The next morning, his mother walks into the kitchen while Derek is fixing himself a bowl of cereal.

“Have a good time last night?” she asks as she crosses to the coffee pot.

“Yep.”

“Did Stiles?”

Derek looks up at his mother warily as he sets the box of cereal aside. “Yes.”

Talia sighs, her lips a thin line as she cradles the mug in her hands. “So, you totally ignored what I said and decided to date him anyway?”

“We’re not dating,” Derek says. “We just hung out. It was nothing.”

“I don’t think that kiss on the porch was nothing.”

“You were spying on me?” Derek yells.

“No, I heard you come home. When I came downstairs, you were on the porch.” Talia shakes her head. “I still don’t like the idea of you two dating. What if it gets serious?”

Derek heaves an aggrieved sigh and rolls his eyes. “I think you’re jumping the gun a little bit, Mom.”

“Being around him is going to mean thinking about what you’re doing all the time,” Talia says as she sits on a stool at the kitchen island. “Holding back your strength, your speed – “

“I do that at school every day.”

“It’s harder when you get comfortable with someone,” Talia says. “Or what if you put him in danger? Hunters, other supernatural creatures. Dating him puts him in danger, makes him a target.” Derek crosses his arms across his chest and glares at the floor. “One day, Derek, when you have your own family to protect, you’ll understand why these things are important. Right now, you’re a teenager and it’s just hormones and new instincts. I know you like Stiles, but it _is_ dangerous. I just want you to think about that, okay?”

Derek does look up when she’s finished, and after she exits the kitchen, he leaves his breakfast untouched and runs outside, stripping off his shirt and shifting before he takes off into the woods.

*

Derek skips lunch on Monday, and instead goes to the library. He curls up in a musty armchair in the back by the window with a book. He ignores the texts from Isaac and Stiles. He just can’t face Stiles, not today.

His mom spent all weekend trying to explain to him why she objected to him dating Stiles. She told him he was going to college in a few months, and Stiles still had a year of high school left. She tried to get him to understand how dangerous bringing humans unfamiliar with the supernatural into close contact with their world was, emphasizing how dangerous it was to keep Stiles in the dark. “You’ll want to wolf out the first time you have sex,” she’d told him Sunday afternoon. At Derek’s horrified face, she said, “It’s perfectly natural, honey. When you get close to orgasm, your instincts will take over, and it will be very difficult to control yourself. Even if you don’t shift, there’s the danger of fangs or claws, or your eyes at the very least.”

Derek had left the room, because while wolves were more open sexually, he was _not_ talking to his mother about wolfing out during sex with Stiles. Just. No.

“You’ll want to mark and scent him,” she had continued later. “To claim him so other werewolves will know he’s yours. Sometimes, if the attraction is strong enough, wolves feel the need to scent before they’ve had sex. It’s rare, though.”

Now that caught Derek’s attention. “Why?” Derek asked. Laura had made the urge to scent sound common and normal. His mom made it sound like some freak occurrence.

“Some people think of it as finding your soul mate, your one true love or something like that.” Talia shook her head dismissively. “That’s ludicrous, of course. Werewolves don’t mate. But sometimes you’ll meet someone that your wolf instinctually wants, and you’ll feel the urge to scent before anything’s happened. It’s even worse if the attraction is mutual.” Then Talia looked at Derek sharply. Suspiciously, she asked, “Why?”

“No one’s ever told me that before,” he answered. “I didn’t know that was a thing.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it,” Talia said. “I’ve never felt that before. I didn’t feel the need to mark your father until after we’d had sex.”

That hadn’t made Derek feel better. If anything, it made him feel worse. 

So, between his mom telling him all the reasons _not_ to date Stiles, on top of the knowledge that he has some weird uncommon urge to scent Stiles before they’re even dating, Derek just doesn’t feel like seeing him.

He doesn’t feel like it on Tuesday either. Wednesday he gets a pass from Coach Finstock to practice during lunch, so that’s where Stiles finds him: on the field behind the school during lunch. Derek smells him the moment he steps onto the field, and he just runs faster and slings the ball into the goal.

“And the crowd goes wild!” Stiles exclaims as he approaches Derek. 

Three days away from Stiles has not made it easier to see him. In fact, it’s made it worse. He has to close his eyes and hide his nose in the crook of his arm to get his wits about him. When Derek lowers his arm, Stiles is looking at him with a pained expression. Derek wants to run over to him and kiss him until he’s smiling again. Instead, he just leans on his lacrosse stick. 

“Did I do something wrong Friday night?” Stiles asks. “I mean, I know it wasn’t a date, but I thought with the touching and the kissing and the fact that you didn’t punch me in the face when I did that thing against your ear that you were on the same page as me.” 

Derek hates how vulnerable Stiles looks, with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans and his shoulders slumped forward. Derek sighs and runs a hand through his sweaty hair. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Then why haven’t you been coming to lunch? Or answering my texts?”

Derek honestly doesn’t know how to answer. Or what to do. Every instinct he has is telling him to rush towards Stiles and carry him somewhere and not to leave for days. But those same instincts are telling him to be careful, are listening to his mother’s – his Alpha’s – words. 

“It’s…complicated.”

Stiles’ brow creases, and he says, “How is it complicated? You’re gay, right? Is this a high school gay coming out crisis? I know you don’t date like ever, but I just assumed – “

“It’s not that,” Derek interrupts. “There are just…complications. And I don’t know how…” He trails off, all his words lost. He doesn’t know what to say on a good day, and right now, right now with Stiles looking at him like that, he’s completely lost.

“Complications,” Stiles says with narrowed eyes. “Yeah, okay, whatever.” He turns around and stalks off the field, and Derek doesn’t stop him.

*

“What’s so important that you called a, what did you call it, emergency Wolf Moot?” Danny snickers, and Derek punches him in the arm. “Ow, don’t bruise the human, okay?”

“It’s about Stiles, isn’t it?” Isaac asks. “Derek’s been missing lunch, and Stiles came into the lunchroom late today and he did not look happy.”

“Did you two break up already?” Erica asks.

Derek growls and drops his head into his hands. They’re sitting in Danny’s basement because Derek can’t talk about this at his own house, and Danny’s the only other one of them with a werewolf family. It’s easier to talk about these things without the threat of human parents snooping around. Erica’s mom still glares at Derek like she thinks Derek is fucking her daughter on the regular. He thinks it’s unfair Boyd always gets treated nicely by Mrs. Reyes when he _is_ actually fucking her daughter on the regular.

“My mom says dating him is a bad idea,” Derek says miserably. “She’s been trying to convince me for days that human plus sheriff’s son plus werewolves just don’t mix.”

“That’s rough,” Danny says.

“You’re not going to listen to her, right?” Erica asks. “I mean, sure, she’s our Alpha, but like she can’t keep you from dating whoever you want to date. Unless, oh god, she’d didn’t _Alpha_ you to not date Stiles, did she?”

“No. She’s not a horrible bitch,” Derek says defensively. She just sure as hell made everything suck for Derek instead. “She just keeps telling me all the reasons why it won’t work, or how he’ll be in danger, and then mentioning creepy sex things.” They all cringe in unison. He turns to Danny. “Are your parents like this?”

Danny shrugs. “I don’t tell them about the guys I fool around with.”

“Don’t they smell them on you?” Isaac asks. 

Danny shrugs. “Maybe. But I’m dating Ethan now, and he’s a werewolf. The only thing my mom said was that if Ethan hurt me, she’d rip his throat out.” Danny grins. “She wasn’t lying either. I think she likes me dating a werewolf. Keeping it in the family, so to speak.”

“But I don’t want to date a werewolf,” Derek whines. “I want to date Stiles.”

“Then date Stiles,” Boyd says. “Your mom didn’t forbid it. I think you can keep being a werewolf a secret.”

“You do need to stop being a dick to Stiles though,” Isaac says. “He’s been really upset. I think he really likes you.”

“Why, we don’t know,” Erica says.

“His body,” Danny says. “Stiles has always been a sucker for muscles. He had a crush on me for like two seconds freshman year.”

Derek glares at Danny, and they all burst out laughing. Derek hates his friends. Actually, right now, Derek just hates everyone.

*

That night, Derek lies in bed and tries to figure out what he’s going to do. The only thing talking to his friends did was make it harder to think of a good reason _not_ to date Stiles. He thinks back to Friday night, to how much fun they had together, to the way Stiles’ lips had felt against his own when they kissed. He thinks about the heat of Stiles’ body under his hand, and what it’d feel like if Stiles had those lips wrapped around his cock, the way Stiles’ skin would look like with a line of marks down his neck.

Derek shoves his hand inside his underwear and starts jerking his half-hard cock. He thinks about Stiles’ fingers wrapped around it instead of his own, how flush Stiles’ skin would get, the kind of noises he’d make. 

He comes to the image of Stiles fucking into him, his fingers pressing hard enough into Derek’s hips to leave a bruise.

*

Stiles looks surprised to see Derek sit down at the lunch table on Thursday. He gives Derek a tentative smile, and Derek gives him a nod in return. Stiles starts talking to Scott, and Derek starts reading _American Gods._

On Friday, they don’t speak through lunch again, but Derek grabs Stiles’ arm before he walks off. Scott glares at him, but leaves Stiles to talk to Derek when Stiles gives him a nod. Stiles looks at Derek expectantly, and Derek is surrounded by peaches and cinnamon, but it’s laced with the bitter taste of hurt and anger.

“What?”

Derek adjusts the bag on his shoulder. “Can we talk after school?” 

Stiles watches him for a moment, and then nods. “I’ve got to eat dinner with my dad, he’s been working long hours and I haven’t been able to see him much. But after that.”

“Text me when you’re free?” Stiles nods and then runs to go catch up with Scott.

*

It’s almost eight when Stiles finally texts Derek. He had spent most of the afternoon worried that Stiles wasn’t going to text, and Derek realized he probably deserved it. He just hoped Stiles gave him a chance to make things right.

The only thing Derek cared about was Stiles. It’s the only thing he’s cared about all along.

_I’m free. Where do you want to meet?_

_The park on Elm?_

_Be there in twenty._

Derek grabs his letterman jacket and runs a hand through his hair before checking his reflection in the mirror. He decides he looks good enough to meet with Stiles, so he grabs his keys, yells into the living room that he is meeting up with some friends, and then leaves.

Stiles is already there when Derek pulls into the parking lot at the park. He’s leaning against the hood of his Jeep, red hoodie zipped all the way against the cold. Derek parks his Camaro next to Stiles and then gets out.

“Hey,” he says awkwardly. 

“Hey.”

Stiles leads the way towards the nearby playground, and Derek follows. Now that he has Stiles in front of him, he realizes he should have thought about what he was going to say, maybe even prepared a speech. 

Stiles goes over to the jungle gym and sits along one of the edges. He winds his arms around bars on either side of him and leans back. “What do you want to talk about?” he asks, his face betraying nothing.

Derek extends his arm and leans his weight against a bar next to Stiles’ head. He’s standing in front of him and looking down into his face. “I’ve been a dick.”

“I know. It’s complicated.” Stiles’ voice is half-mocking, half-resignation.

“It is,” Derek says, and Stiles frowns. “But I don’t care.” He reaches out and cups Stiles’ face, rubbing his thumb along the strong line of his jaw. Stiles leans into the touch. “I want to be with you.”

Stiles suddenly jerks away, and he climbs higher up the monkey bars. “So, that’s it then?” he yells down as he ascends. “All of a sudden, you want to be together and I’m just supposed to fall into your muscular arms and forget the last week.”

“Stiles, no.” Derek huffs and starts up the bars after him. 

“Because you really hurt me, Derek.” Stiles is at the top of the jungle gym, and he’s staring down at Derek not bothering to hide the pain and anger he feels. “I think it was pretty obvious how much I liked you. Do you know how much balls it took me to run back onto your porch that night?” Stiles glances up at the sky and shakes his head. “I wanted to kiss you so bad all night, and I thought maybe you’d get a clue and do it first. But you just stood there and played Pac-Man, and then you were gonna call your sister to pick you up. Hell, I wasn’t even sure if you liked me, Derek.”

“How could you not tell?” Derek asks, climbing up a few more bars. “I’ve been pretty obvious.”

Stiles snorts. “Nothing with you is obvious, Derek. Except how annoying you find me.”

“I don’t find you annoying,” Derek says quietly, and Stiles gives him his best dubious face. “Okay, you drive me absolutely crazy. In every way imaginable.”

Stiles smiles. It’s not his usual wide, cocky grin. It’s smaller, more intimate and shy. He’s worrying his bottom lip, and Derek can tell that he’s thinking. Then, Stiles hooks his legs over a bar and hangs upside down. His shirt falls down to his armpits, revealing the long line of his torso. Derek just stares at the pale flesh and the dark line of hair leading beneath plaid boxers. Hastily, Stiles covers himself and shoves his shirt inside his pants.

There it is again, that strong scent that has become synonymous with Stiles. Derek inhales and leans forward, ducking under a bar so he can get closer to Stiles’ mouth.

“So, you like me?” Stiles asks from where he’s hanging upside down. He looks ridiculous, but Derek finds him so endearing, and his wolf is nearly vibrating with pleasure at Stiles being so close in front of him. 

Derek nods, and he leans closer to Stiles’ face, bending slightly to look into his eyes. “I like you a lot.” Stiles smiles, and his face lights up so much that it’s nearly blinding Derek. It’s all he can do to control himself enough only to lean forward and kiss Stiles instead of plastering himself all over him. 

If Derek thought Stiles smelled good, then he tastes fucking _amazing_. The angle is weird since Stiles is hanging from his knees, but Derek cradles the back of his head and threads his fingers into Stiles’ soft hair. When Stiles’ tongue slips into his mouth for the first time, Derek moans and lifts his other hand to cup Stiles’ face. He ends up running his thumb along the underside of his jaw.

When they break apart, Derek’s breathless. He stares at Stiles like he’s everything in the world, and Derek’s pretty sure that he is. Stiles looks shy and happy, and then he starts laughing quietly. Derek smiles down at him as he watches him.

“Dude, you just Spiderman-ed me.”

“What?” Derek’s brows knit together in confusion.

Stiles reaches up and grabs a higher bar to pull himself upright. “Upside down kissing. You Spiderman-ed me.” He grins. “You’re such a dork.”

That…is not the reaction Derek expects. Now that Stiles has said it, Derek remembers the scene. But honestly, a comic book movie from over a decade ago was the _last_ thing Derek had been thinking of. Derek was trying to be romantic; he doesn’t know why, but it feels like a rejection.

Wordlessly, Derek starts climbing down the bars. “Derek, wait! I was just joking!” Derek jumps the last few feet, landing perfectly on the ground. He doesn’t turn around as he walks away, trying to shake his embarrassment and the pang he feels. “Derek! Stupid fucking - _shit!_ ”

Derek turns around just as Stiles tumbles from the side of the monkey bars to the ground. Derek’s by his side in a flash, and he drops to his knees and touches Stiles’ arms. “Stiles, are you okay?” He’s freaking out, terrified that Stiles broke something.

“Ugh,” Stiles groans, pushing himself up on one elbow. “Just a bit of wounded pride. Faceplanting isn’t exactly sexy.” Derek frowns, and Stiles reaches out and pokes at the corners of his mouth. “No frown. You should be smiling. Because I don’t know about you, but that was like the best kiss ever. Granted, I only have one other to choose from, but I’m pretty sure it trumps just about every other kiss ever.”

“I thought you were making fun of me,” Derek says quietly. “For kissing you like that.”

“Dude,” Stiles laughs, shaking his head. “I am absolutely not making fun of you. Do you even know me? How is being kissed kinda like a Marvel movie by the most amazing guy not the most _awesome_ thing to ever happen to me? Do you know how many fantasies I’ve had where I’ve gotten Spidey-kissed? Okay, not that many, but I have had them, and you just – “

Derek cuts off his rambling by leaning forward and kissing him again. Stiles tries to talk for a few seconds, but then grips the back of Derek’s neck and pulls him on top of him. Derek doesn’t care that they’re lying in the dirt by the monkey bars at a public park. 

He’s kissing Stiles, and it’s perfect.

*

They text all weekend. About stupid things like how Stiles is pretty sure there’s a gnome eating the cookies in the kitchen, and how he can’t decide if the pants he’s wearing have been worn twice or like fifteen times without washing. He even details to Derek the state of the holes in his socks. Derek tells Stiles that there’s a gnome named Cora in his house that steals his socks and t-shirts, and that his mom is making mashed potatoes for dinner, which he secretly hates. 

_Who hates mashed potatoes? I don’t think we can be boyfriends anymore._

Derek stares at the text for ten minutes before he responds. _I’m your boyfriend?_

_Well, I was kinda hoping. If you don’t want to be labeled, that’s cool. We can just kiss and be not-boyfriends. I’ll take anything. I’m not picky._

Derek frowns at that. Stiles deserves a boyfriend and to get what he wants, and he tells him so. Stiles texts back, _I’m pretty sure you’ve been taken over by an alien, bc you can’t be real._ Derek tells Stiles that he’s the one that’s too good to be true.

Maybe Derek feels a bit like a sap when he hits send, but Stiles doesn’t seem to mind. Derek’s riding a high of endorphins and hormones; if he wants to tell his _boyfriend_ lame things about how great he is, then dammit, he’s going to do it.

Derek’s still grinning Monday morning when he gets to school. Stiles is waiting for him in the student parking lot, and Derek can’t believe that any of this is real. 

He’s never had the best luck with dating. There was Paige, but she moved after they’d only been going together for a few months, and then there was almost Kate, but that had just been an elaborate ruse that could have easily ended in disaster. He knew that most of the student body wanted to sleep with him – he was well aware of how people perceived his looks – but he wasn’t interested in that. He wanted someone interested in _him_. Derek wasn’t popular, didn’t have a lot of friends. Despite his looks, most of his classmates were afraid of him, or thought he was weird. On more occasions than one he’d heard people refer to him as a serial killer or sociopath. He was more than okay with everyone leaving him alone. As long as he got to play lacrosse and baseball, and he graduated, he didn’t really care about high school.

But Stiles wasn’t like that. Sure, Stiles was annoying and teased him and drove him nuts and thought he was hot, but Stiles also understood Derek’s love of books and didn’t think he was weird that his favorite place was a vintage arcade. Stiles had searched out a short book chapter. Just for him.

“Morning,” Stiles says when Derek gets out of the car. He reaches into the front of the Jeep and pulls out a bottle of Dr. Pepper. “I know it’s your favorite.”

Derek takes it from him before sliding his arms around Stiles’ waist and kissing him deeply. Stiles curls his fingers into Derek’s shoulders, gripping him tightly as his tongue explores Derek’s mouth. “I missed you, too,” Stiles mumbles against his mouth. He laughs.

“I didn’t get enough of that Friday night,” Derek says. “I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of kissing you.”

“I’m okay with that.”

“Ew, Stiles, really?” Derek turns to find Scott staring at them with his nose crinkled. Isaac’s beside him smirking. Derek just slides his arms further around Stiles’ waist and hugs him closer to his body. “You’re in the parking lot. If you’re gonna make out before school, do it in one of your cars like everyone else, duh.”

Derek laughs and presses his face into the crook of Stiles’ neck. It still smells faintly like him from the other night, and Derek nuzzles his face against the soft skin. Stiles’ smell is so concentrated right here, and Derek wants to lick the skin, but he refrains. He doesn’t pull away until he hears someone clear their throat, and he turns around to find Cora, Erica, Boyd, and Danny watching him in amusement. 

“Well, I guess we won’t need any more Wolf Moots,” Erica says.

“At least not for the same reason.” Danny smirks and walks into the school.

“Huh?” Stiles asks. Reluctantly, Derek lets Stiles go, which is probably a good thing since he’s halfway to popping a boner and it’s not even first period yet. “What are they talking about?”

“I don’t know,” Derek replies. “My friends are weird.” Derek reaches down and grabs Stiles’ hand, lacing their fingers together. Stiles looks so pleased that Derek just has to kiss him one more time before school.

“Is this how they’re going to be from now on?” Isaac asks Scott from behind them.

“I don’t know, Stiles has never had a boyfriend,” Scott responds. Stiles drops his forehead to Derek’s shoulder and groans in embarrassment, and Derek kisses the side of his head.

*

“You might want to tone down the public displays of marking,” Cora whispers when she finds Derek between third and fourth period. “Cause I’m guessing you’re still not telling Mom.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“Then you probably should know that you reek of Stiles,” she says, wrinkling her nose. “I mean, Mom knows that you’re friends with him, but she’s gonna get suspicious if you start coming home every day smelling like Stiles rubbed himself all over you.”

Derek shoves Cora affectionately, and she growls before swiping at his head. It’s their own personal brand of I love you.

*

Derek doesn’t know how he made it through lacrosse practice for the past two years without noticing Stiles. Sure, Stiles and Scott warm the bench, but Derek had never looked at them before. Now, it’s nearly impossible to do anything at practice. Derek’s eyes follow Stiles as he runs laps around the field, tracks him as he does drills across the grass. A part of Derek wants to chase him through the woods while Stiles tries to outrun him, let him think he’s winning until he leaps and catches his prey. 

“You might have a bit of drool,” Boyd says when he comes up beside Derek. “Just there.” He pokes Derek in the chin, and Derek swipes his hand away.

“Fuck off.”

Boyd laughs, and Danny runs over after finishing the drill he’d been doing. “Staring at Stilinski’s cute little ass isn’t within the practice guidelines.” Derek tries to hit Danny with his crosse, but Danny ducks. “I mean, the guy does have a nice ass.” Danny turns around to stare appreciatively, and Derek growls possessively. Danny just laughs. “Uh-oh, I’ve provoked the wolf. I better watch out.”

“How are you even still alive?” Boyd asks, shaking his head.

“Only human in an entire house of werewolves,” Danny says, walking backwards towards the field. “You learn mad survival skills after awhile.” He pokes Derek in the gut with his crosse, and Derek chases Danny out onto the field. Danny gets back into the goal, and Derek figures he should do something in practice other than stare at Stiles. When Stiles sees him from where he’s standing in line to practice shots, he gives Derek an awkward wave. Derek waves back, and he hears Danny say under his breath, “Ugh, get a room.”

Derek makes sure to tackle Danny at least five times during the rest of practice. He’s not content until Danny’s bleeding at least a little bit.

*

Coach calls Derek and Jackson into his office after practice to talk about strategy for their first game in a few weeks, and then he lets Jackson leave and gives Derek a speech about how it’s his senior year, and this is the most important season of his life. Derek spends the entire speech trying to figure out which movie he lifted it from.

By the time he leaves Finstock’s office, the locker room is clear. Derek goes over to his locker and opens it up as he grabs the collar of his shirt and pulls it over his head.

“Hey.” Derek yanks the shirt off and finds Stiles standing beside him, dressed in his regular clothes again. He’s sweaty, Derek can smell it clinging to his skin, so he presses Stiles up against the lockers and licks from the base of his neck all the way up along the side. Stiles squirms beneath him, and the scent of peaches and cinnamon strong behind his ear. “Oh god, oh god,” Stiles repeats.

Derek pulls away, his eyes a bit glazed over. He realizes this is going to be a problem, his one track mind where Stiles is concerned. “Huh?”

“This is about to turn into every locker room fantasy I’ve ever had,” Stiles says, “Except in my fantasies Coach wasn’t so close that he could probably see through the window if he wasn’t playing Candy Crush on his phone.”

Derek smiles and jams his hands under Stiles’ t-shirt. He kisses his temple before licking the sweat from the skin there. But then he pulls away and says, “Wait, you’ve had locker room fantasies about me?”

Stiles’ face flushes a deep red, and he looks anywhere except at Derek. “Well, I mean…it’s not like I was creeping on you in the shower or anything. But, I have eyes, and sometimes those eyes didn’t miss it when you were changing.”

The room is suddenly _very_ hot. Derek thinks about Stiles watching him change clothes, watching him shower, then going home and jerking himself on his bed. Those thoughts, combined with the salty taste of Stiles on his tongue and the strong scent of sweat that’s laced with arousal coming from Stiles, has Derek’s claws coming out and his fangs poking against his gums. He moans at the way his body is picking up extra sensations with the shift, making it even harder to control himself, but Stiles takes it differently.

“Do you like that, Derek?” he says quietly, his voice gravelly and low. It’s quite possibly the hottest thing Derek’s ever heard, and it’s doing nothing to reign in his wolf. “Do you want me to tell you about touching myself while I thought of you doing it instead?” Stiles drops his hand low and cups Derek through his shorts. “No cup?” Stiles asks as he slips his hand inside the front of Derek’s shorts and beneath the band of his under armour. He squeezes Derek’s cock, and Derek presses his hands against the lockers as he rolls his head against Stiles’ shoulder. “Ballsy, literally.”

“Fuck,” Derek growls, and this is going to get out of hand if Derek doesn’t get ahold of himself. “I don’t wear a cup during practice,” he says, trying to deflect some of his attention away from Stiles’ hand on his cock. “Just during games.”

“So hot,” Stiles breathes into his ear as he rubs Derek’s hardening dick, and then from somewhere behind them a door opens. Derek hears Finstock swear under his breath, and he’s off Stiles and around the row of lockers in a flash. He braces himself on his knees, watching as his claws retract. His dick is hard and straining against his shorts, but he’s far less concerned about that than the wolf problem.

“Bilinski! What in the hell are you still doing here?”

“Had some trouble with, uh, the thing, coach,” Stiles answers, and Derek shakes his head. Stiles is a terrible liar.

“Well, get the hell out of here. Have you seen Hale?”

“I think he’s already left.”

“His clothes are still in his locker.”

Stiles laughs awkwardly. “So they are. Hey, I didn’t know this was Derek’s locker. Why in the world has he left it open? He’s a weirdo, coach. W-E-I-R-D-O.”

“Bilinski, what in the hell are you talking about? If you see Hale, tell him to drop by my office. And stop creeping around an empty locker room like a fungus. You’re freaking me out.”

Stiles comes around the lockers, laughing. “Dude, you should have seen how fast you ran away. Scared of being caught and not being the golden boy anymore?”

“Fuck you.”

Stiles grins and comes up to Derek to kiss him on the mouth briefly. “My dad’s got the night shift tonight, which was what I was going to tell you before somebody distracted me. No interruptions there, no creepy coach walking in on us.”

Derek hesitates, worried about wolfing out again if he’s with Stiles. Stiles notices it, and he takes a few steps back and puts his hands in his pockets, a clear defensive gesture. “You don’t have to, it’s cool. I mean, I’ve got a lot of homework anyway, so – “

Derek grabs Stiles’ arm and tugs him close and kisses him. “Shut up. I’d love to come over. Let me shower, and then I’ll be there.”

Stiles grins and walks backward a few steps, tripping over one of the benches. “Don’t jerk off in the shower, okay? I have plans for later, Derek. _Plans_.”

Derek pulls off his practice shorts and throws them at Stiles’ head when he stares at him standing there in his underwear. “Go home, jerkface.”

“I’m not a – you’re the jerk…butt,” Stiles finishes when Derek turns around and takes off the under armour, leaving his bare ass for Stiles to see. 

“Stop staring like you haven’t seen it before,” Derek laughs as he walks towards the showers. “Go home, Stiles. I mean it.”

“You are so getting it tonight.”

“That’s the plan,” Derek calls behind him. 

He takes a cold shower, standing under the spray for far too long, trying to get his wolf under control. 

*

Stiles doesn’t even pretend sex isn’t the only thing on his mind when Derek arrives at his house. He grabs Derek’s hand as soon as he closes the front door and starts kissing him. Somehow, they make it upstairs and onto Stiles’ bed.

Derek wants to roll around in Stiles’ bed forever. Not only is his smell concentrated there, but Derek wants to leave his own scent there mingled with Stiles. 

“This is going to be embarrassingly fast,” Stiles says as he pulls off his shirt. “I’ve been hard since I left the locker room.”

Derek tries to take it slow, to touch and taste as much as Stiles as possible. But Stiles is impatient, and he’s pulling at Derek’s clothes and making little needy noises in the back of his throat. “Derek, I have waited nearly seventeen years to lose my v-card, and you are evil for making me wait even longer.”

“Wait, huh?” Derek pushes himself up on his elbows. They’ve both stripped down to their underwear, and Derek is lying on top of Stiles. “You’re a virgin?”

“I thought that part was pretty obvious,” Stiles says. “Did you miss the part where I told you that you were my first kiss?” Derek’s brow creases as he thinks back to the other night, and he vaguely remembers Stiles hinting at it. “What, why do you have on thinky-brow?” Stiles pokes at Derek’s eyebrows. “No thinky-brow. You need sexy-brow. Don’t ask me how you do sexy-brow, but you do. I think your eyebrows have a mind of their own, and why the fuck are we talking about your eyebrows? We should be talking about my dick. It’s lovely, I promise.”

Derek laughs and leans down to kiss Stiles again. It’s a slow kiss, and no matter how much Stiles tries to hurry it up or rub himself on Derek, he won’t let him. “Ugh, you’re evil, do you know that?”

Derek smirks and moves to Stiles’ neck and begins peppering kisses there. Then, he bites into the skin at the juncture of his shoulder and neck, and Stiles moans. “Fuck, Derek, just, ohmigod,” Stiles rambles as Derek sucks a mark into his skin. He pulls off and surveys his work, sees the deep maroon bruise against Stiles’ pale skin. He has to take a few deep breaths to keep himself from covering all of Stiles in similar marks, though breathing in doesn’t make it that much easier.

“You okay?” Stiles asks, cupping Derek’s face in his palms. “You’re kinda zoning out and staring at my sheets, and while I love these sheets, I’m pretty sure they’re not as interesting as me.”

“Definitely not,” Derek says as he starts kissing Stiles again. This time, he lets Stiles go as fast as he wants, and the next thing Derek knows, he’s on his back with Stiles’ mouth on his cock. The pressure of his fangs pushes at his gums, and he’s trying desperately to keep it together. He can do this; he can be in a relationship with Stiles without putting him in danger or revealing himself. 

Stiles’ mouth is uncoordinated, but what he lacks in experience he makes up with enthusiasm. His loud slurps fill the room, and it’s sloppy and wet, but his mouth feels so good around Derek’s cock that he doesn’t care. Not that he has a lot to compare it to – the only other person to have done this was Paige, and that was three years ago.

“Stiles, I’m going to come,” Derek moans, trying to tug Stiles up, but Stiles just grips his cock harder and starts sliding his fist along his shaft as his mouth works faster. Derek is gripping Stiles’ headboard, and his claws are pushing out, so he balls his fists above his head and jerks when Stiles swipes his tongue around the head of his cock, and then he’s coming with a growl.

He flops down on the bed bonelessly, and Stiles is still single-mindedly licking the come from his cock. Derek moves a hand into Stiles’ hair, and Stiles lifts his head and nuzzles into Derek’s touch. 

“Was that okay?” Stiles asks from between his legs. Derek cracks one eye open, and Stiles looks fucking _debauched_. Cheeks flush, hair mussed, lips red and swollen, and fuck, there’s a bit of come in the corner. Derek slides his hand down the side of Stiles’ face and swipes it away with his thumb before slipping his thumb inside Stiles’ mouth. Stiles sucks it eagerly, and Derek’s eyes roll back into his head. 

“Your fucking mouth,” Derek mutters. “Come up here.” Stiles crawls up Derek’s body, and Derek kisses him deeply. He wants to lick every bit of him from Stiles’ mouth, thinks he could get drunk on their tastes mingling. 

“Fuck,” Stiles breathes when he pulls away. “I did good, then?”

Derek smiles. “You’re perfect.”

Later, after Derek has sucked Stiles off and almost orgasmed again when Stiles’ come hit his tongue (which, as Stiles had predicted, only took about thirty seconds), they lay facing each other with their legs tangled and fingers intertwined. Stiles glances at where Derek’s rubbing his thumb along the back of Stiles’ palm and asks, “Why did you say it was complicated? What’s complicated about this?”

Derek sighs. “My mom…isn’t exactly…happy that we’re together.”

“What? Why? I’ve never even met your mom.”

“She’s very…overprotective.”

“So, she doesn’t know we’re dating?”

Derek shakes his head, and Stiles scowls. “It’s not you, Stiles, I promise,” Derek says, lifting his hand to cup Stiles’ face. “It’s complicated. But even if she does find out, I’m going to keep dating you.” Stiles smiles a little at that.

“Why me?” Stiles asks. “You’re the hottest guy at school. Why me?”

Derek leans forward and noses along Stiles’ cheek. He wishes he could tell Stiles that it’s the way he smells, the way his wolf is content when he’s around, that he doesn’t really understand it himself. Instead, he says, “Because you found me a short chapter from a book.”

Stiles’ face scrunches in disbelief. “Don’t make fun, I’m being serious.”

“So am I.” He kisses Stiles lightly, and Stiles leans back. 

“You mean, all it took was one google search to get you to like me?”

“It wasn’t the chapter,” Derek sighs. “It was what it represents. That you got me. No one’s ever gotten me before.”

“It wasn’t that hard,” Stiles whispers conspiratorially. “It’s not like your nose wasn’t shoved in a book every day at lunch.”

Derek hooks an arm around Stiles’ waist and flips them onto Stiles’ back and kisses him again.

*

Derek reluctantly leaves Stiles’ house a little after nine, and as soon as he’s in the car, he calls Laura.

Derek asks, “How do you cover up the smell of sex?”

Laura laughs for five minutes.

*

Cora keeps her mouth shut about Stiles, Laura helps him figure out how to hide what he and Stiles are doing, and Stiles is amazing. Derek is on top of the world.

“Derek, you’re kinda freaking me out,” Isaac says when Derek drops into his seat at lunch Thursday. When Derek looks at him, he and Scott are watching him like they’re waiting for him to attack or something.

“What?” Derek snaps.

“Dude, you were smiling,” Scott says. “Fourth day in a row. It’s just…”

“Wrong,” Isaac finishes.

Beside him, Stiles collapses on Derek’s shoulder in a fit of laughter. Isaac and Scott start laughing too, and when Derek glares at them, that just causes them to laugh harder.

“Much better,” Isaac says. “Your face looks all wrong with a smile.”

“Don’t listen to them,” Stiles laughs from where his face is still buried on Derek’s shoulder. “Your smile is sexy.” Stiles kisses his cheek, and Isaac and Scott shake their head. 

Derek doesn’t mind lunch so much anymore. Derek’s still anti-social and reads instead of talking to everyone, and Stiles doesn’t mind as long as Derek lets him lay against him somehow. Derek listens to his iPod with Stiles’ warm body pressed against him like a pleasant buzzing in the background. Stiles talks with the others and tosses Cheetos at Jackson. Sometimes Stiles backseat reads and pulls Derek’s earbud from his ear and makes commentary on passages he has no context for. Derek grunts and covers Stiles’ face with his hand as he pushes him away and replaces his earbud.

All in all, it’s not so bad.

Saturday, Stiles comes with Derek to the lacrosse field so Derek can practice. “You should be practicing, too,” Derek tells him as he does sprints across the field. 

“Oh yeah,” Stiles calls out from where he’s sprawled out on his back in the grass, reading on his tablet. “Cause the likelihood of me getting off the bench is so high.” Derek pauses and glares in Stiles’ direction. Stiles lifts his head. “It’s true.”

“You could do something other than warm the bench if you tried, you know,” Derek says.

“Is this the point where you give me a speech about how if I try really hard, I’ll make the team in no time?” Stiles drops his head back onto the grass. “Save your breath.”

“Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Get defensive whenever someone tries to encourage you to do something.”

“I’m not getting defensive,” Stiles snaps. “Okay, maybe that was a little defensive, but that’s because you are pushing a non-issue.”

“Stiles – “

Stiles rolls onto his side and props himself on his elbow. “Derek, look. You are the big, strong team captain. I’m that guy who warms the bench so the team is large enough to play, and who cheers when the team scores. I’m okay with this; I’ve accepted it.”

“You don’t have to, you know,” Derek says, jogging over to pick up his crosse from beside Stiles. “I could help you.”

“And I appreciate it, and that’s why I love you.”

They both freeze, and Derek looks down at Stiles, who is avoiding his eyes by pretending to be engrossed in something on his tablet. Derek runs onto the field and goes through some new plays he’d come up with so he can show them to coach next week. He even convinces Stiles to get on the field and help him out. 

Every time Derek runs by Stiles, peaches and cinnamon fill his senses, and he can’t stop thinking about what Stiles said.

_That’s why I love you. That’s why I love you._

Stiles is running the ball up the field, and Derek feels his instincts urging him to chase Stiles, so Derek grins as he indulges himself for once. He’s pouncing on Stiles after only a few seconds, and his arms act as a cage around Stiles as they hit the ground. Stiles lets out a surprised breath, and then wiggles in his arms.

“What the hell, dude?” Derek releases Stiles enough so he can roll onto his back. Derek is grinning down at Stiles widely, and Stiles is shaking his head. “You are frigging insane.”

Derek kisses him hard, more teeth than usual, but his blood is pumping through his veins with the after effects of catching Stiles, and when he pulls away, he realizes that he’s been rubbing himself all over Stiles. Stiles smells like _them_ , and Derek feels content.

“I love you, too,” Derek whispers. He nuzzles against the bend of Stiles’ jaw and drops a kiss on his damp skin. 

“Oh, wow,” Stiles says. Derek lifts up, worried that he’s overstepped, but Stiles’ hands slide under his t-shirt and he runs his hands over the smooth planes of Derek’s back. “I wasn’t expecting that.” Stiles sits up slightly, mouth hovering just inches from Derek’s, and scratches his nails along the back of Derek’s neck. “I love you,” he says quietly, and Derek kisses him again.

*

“So, it’s official then,” Talia says at dinner that night. “You’re dating Stiles.”

Derek feels himself flush, and he glares at Cora. “I didn’t say anything,” she protests with her hands up. “I could have ratted you out about the Stiles situation so many times. Why would I wait until now? I honestly wanted to see how this all played out.” He flashes his eyes at her for good measure before turning to his mom.

“I guess,” he answers quietly.

“You guess.” She tips her head down and stares at him with piercing eyes. He squirms and feels five years old again.

“Yes, I’m dating Stiles.”

“It’s been how long now, a couple of weeks?” He looks at her in shock. She leans forward, her eyes burning red. “You’ve done a really bad job covering yourself, Derek. I thought Laura would have done a better job telling you how to cover certain _smells_.”

Derek feels his face heat up, and yep, he just wishes the earth would open up and swallow him whole. “I told you that you reeked of him,” Cora mutters beside him. “You haven’t been doing a good job of hiding it. You come home every other day smelling like Stiles’ spunk.”

Talia shouts, “Cora!” at the same time Derek says, “You could have warned me!”

“I did!”

Talia sighs, and Derek’s dad says, “Did you even think about what we said? Did you think about his safety, the safety of your Pack?”

“Of course I did, Dad.” Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m eighteen. Stop treating me like a child.”

“I just want you to be prepared for the responsibility that dating Stiles is going to entail,” Talia says. “You have to be extra careful with him, especially since you two are sexually active. You have to control your wolf – “

Derek groans, “I know,” at the same time Cora gleefully mutters, “Too late.” Derek exhales heavily through his nostrils as he turns and glowers at her. She smirks.

“Oh god, Derek, what did you do?” his dad asks.

“Nothing!”

“He scent marked him,” Cora answers. 

“Traitor,” Derek growls.

“No fangs at the table!” Talia snaps. Derek abruptly retracts his fangs and claws. “Did you scent mark the sheriff’s son?”

“Maybe a little,” Derek mumbles.

“Derek,” Talia says in exasperation while his father just laughs. Talia turns on him and glares. “This is not funny!”

“It’s pretty funny,” he responds.

“It is,” Cora agrees. “He scent marked him in the parking lot last week. You should have seen him with his face buried in Stiles’ neck before school, and – “

“Cora!” Derek exclaims, dropping his face into his hands. He’s pretty sure he’s going to die of embarrassment. Unless his mother kills him first.

“Derek, you can’t go scent marking people in public!” Talia says, shaking her head. “For god’s sake, at least do it in private if you must. Not that I want you marking him in the first place.”

“Or dating him at all,” Derek mumbles miserably.

“And you’re having sex. He’s human, if you lose yourself in a fit of passion, you could lose control. Have you lost control?”

“Mom!” Derek hides his face in his arms. “I am not having this conversation with my mother.”

Derek’s dad reaches over and covers Talia’s hand, squeezing it. “Oh Talia, lighten up. It’s his first love. It’s adorable.”

“Disgusting is more like it,” Cora says.

“Why couldn’t it be a werewolf? Or even Danny?” Talia asks no one in particular.

Derek’s just sitting in his chair, staring at the table in mortification. Cora throws a bean at his head, and when he glances at her, she pelts him with another and he sighs. 

His family is the worst.

*

“My mom knows we’re dating,” Derek says the next night. They’re in the back of Stiles’ Jeep, parked on the edge of the Preserve. Stiles is lying on top of Derek, his chin propped on his hands on Derek’s chest.

“Did she flip her shit?” Stiles asks. “You’re here, so I guess she’s not too mad.”

“She’s not happy,” Derek says. 

That was probably putting it mildly. She had wanted them to break up, but thanks to his dad, she had finally relented. “This is a huge responsibility,” she had told him, her finger pointed in his face. “If anything happens – if he gets hurt, if he finds out, if he tries to tell his father about us - _you_ will have to deal with the consequences.” Derek was just so happy he didn’t have to lie about dating Stiles anymore (or lie about breaking up with him, because that was _definitely_ not happening) that he didn’t care what she said to him.

“Why does she hate me so much?” Stiles asks. He’s pouting a little bit, and Derek drags his thumb over Stiles’ lip that’s jutting out petulantly. “She hasn’t even met me. Shouldn’t she wait until _after_ she meets me to hate me?”

“Can we please not talk about my mother any longer?” Derek asks. 

“Maybe I should come over for dinner,” Stiles continues without hearing Derek. “Then maybe she’ll like me. I mean, Cora doesn’t really like me, but that’s because she _has_ actually met me. She just loves glaring at me and pushing me down whenever she sees me.”

“Yeah, that’s gonna stop,” Derek snaps. 

“Oh, are you gonna defend my honor against all your family members? What about your dad and Laura? Do they hate me, too? Do I have to worry about some Romeo and Juliet family feud where they tear us star-crossed lovers apart?” Stiles puts his hand against his forehead and pretends to swoon. “Or will you finally just realize your family is right and break up with me?”

“How can you ask that?” Derek curls his hands against the small of Stiles’ back, holding him closer. “If I haven’t broken up with you already, there’s not much that can cause it now.”

Stiles smiles. “You don’t see how annoying I really am because right now you’re blinded by how great my blowjobs are. I’m just sucking your brain out through your dick.” Stiles puts his fist up to his mouth and pokes at his cheek with his tongue. “You don’t want me to stop sucking you off yet.”

“Definitely not,” Derek says, rolling his hips. “But that’s not the only reason I’m with you.” Derek lifts his hand and threads his fingers in Stiles’ hair, bringing his face closer to kiss. Within moments, they’re both panting and hard, and Derek quickly undoes their flies and pulls their dicks free. Stiles kisses along Derek’s jaw and then down his neck, and a low growl escapes his mouth when Stiles bites the chord in his neck.

“Fuck, those sounds you make,” Stiles murmurs as he licks along Derek’s skin, “how are they even humanly possible?” Stiles tries to imitate Derek’s growl, but it just sounds ridiculous. Derek laughs and angles his face so he can kiss Stiles again.

Their foreheads are pressed together, and they’re panting into each other’s mouths. Derek has his hands wrapped around both their cocks, and Stiles’ hands are resting on top of Derek’s as they slide along their shafts. Stiles has his knees on either side of Derek’s hips, pressing into the floor of the Jeep as he rocks his hips into the circle of their hands.

Derek’s so focused on the feel of Stiles’ long fingers and his hot, plump cock against his own that he doesn’t notice anyone approaching until he hears the tapping on the glass and the light shining inside through the windows.

“Beacon County Sheriff’s Department. Break it up, boys.”

Stiles rolls off Derek in a flurry of limbs, and they’re both staring up in shock at the deputy watching them from outside the Jeep. With their pants and underwear shoved down their thighs, and their junk hanging out for all the world to see. At least Derek has the decency to cover his crotch with his hands after a moment. Stiles is still just lying there with his legs spread open, his cock and balls on display for the deputy.

“Put your clothes on, boys, and exit the vehicle.”

“Fuck,” Stiles mumbles as he yanks his pants up. He gets his boxers twisted underneath his dick somehow, and he’s tugging and cursing until Derek stops him and pulls his boxers up and over his dick. Stiles looks at Derek helplessly. “We are so fucked. My dad…fuck. We are so fucked.”

Derek gives Stiles a quick kiss as he buttons his pants. “It’s going to be fine, okay?”

Stiles opens the back door of the Jeep, and they both crawl out. They stare at the ground, refusing to look the officer in the eye. “Stiles,” the deputy sighs. “Who’s your friend?” The man turns to Derek and asks for his license, and Derek hands it over. After he studies it for a moment, the deputy gives it back to Derek, and then pulls out his cell phone.

“Hey Sheriff,” the deputy says looking at Stiles. “We have a bit of a situation.” Derek ignores the conversation in favor of grabbing Stiles’ hand and holding it in both of his. Stiles’ heart is beating way too quickly in his chest, and Derek’s a bit scared he’s going to panic in a moment. He squeezes his hand.

“Stiles,” the deputy starts, “Your dad said for you to go home immediately, and to make sure you bring your friend with you. He also said that he knows how long it takes to drive from here to your house, so you better go straight home.”

Stiles nods wordlessly, and the deputy watches as Stiles and Derek get back into the Jeep and drive away. Stiles doesn’t talk the entire drive to his house, and Derek lays a hand on Stiles’ thigh and rubs his thumb across his leg soothingly. After a few minutes, Stiles starts to relax a bit.

The sheriff is waiting for them on the porch when they get out of the Jeep. His arms are crossed over his chest, and he’s glaring at both of them. Derek sits beside Stiles on the couch, but not too close. The look on the sheriff’s face rivals some of his mother’s, and she’s an Alpha werewolf. In fact, the sheriff might be more terrifying than his mother.

“Stiles, what in the hell were you thinking?”

“Um, well, see, I – “

“Sex? At the Preserve? You know how often that area is patrolled. All sort of weird things happen in those woods,” the sheriff says and Derek tries to look innocent. He’s pretty sure his family is responsible for most of those weird things. “Howling, animal sightings, dead bodies – “ Yep, mostly his family. “It’s dangerous to be out there at night. And it’s just plain stupid to be out there fucking around!”

“Where else are we supposed to go?” Stiles asks. 

The sheriff runs a hand through his hair in exasperation. Then he turns his attention to Derek. “Who are you?”

“Dad, this is my – “ The sheriff shoots Stiles a look, and he withers immediately. “Yeah, I’m gonna just sit over here and stay quiet.”

“Good idea.” He turns back to Derek, waiting.

“I’m Derek Hale.”

“Aren’t you a little old to be fooling around in the back of a Jeep with _my sixteen year old son???_ ”

“Dad, he’s eighteen! He goes to – oh yeah, shutting up,” Stiles says when the sheriff glares again.

“I turned eighteen in November. I’m a senior and on the lacrosse team with Stiles.”

“And you were groping my son in the back of his Jeep.” Derek doesn’t respond, but he feels his cheeks heat up.

“And you,” the sheriff points at Stiles, “why the hell didn’t you tell me you had a boyfriend?”

“I, uh – “

“You didn’t tell your dad about me?” Derek blurts. 

The sheriff looks between them, and then shakes his head. “You’re gonna send me to an early grave, Stiles.” He walks towards the kitchen and motions for Stiles to follow. Derek knows it’s wrong, but he listens in to the conversation anyway. “Stiles, what in the hell is wrong with you?”

“Dad, it wasn’t that bad. We were _barely_ even fooling around. Just hands, I swear. Nothing else.” He hears the sheriff groan. “It’s not like we could do it at his house, or here.”

“I was hoping I’d get you graduated without having to deal with this.”

“Dad, it’s not - _hey!_ Wait a minute. That is the meanest thing you’ve ever said. You seriously wanted me to graduate single and a virgin?”

“Stiles, we are _not_ having this conversation right now!” Derek looks at his shoes when they turn their attention to him. “He’s too old for you. He could have been arrested for what you two were doing.”

“Dad, he’s only like a year older than me. I’ll be seventeen in April, it’s no big deal.”

“We will talk about this more later. I’m not so sure how I feel about you dating this guy.” The sheriff stalks back over to Derek. “Son, if you’re gonna date Stiles, then we need to have a talk.” Derek gulps and braces himself.

As far as dating talks go, it wasn’t that bad. Or maybe it was just that Derek knew the bullets wouldn’t kill him if the sheriff actually went through with his threat to shoot him.

*

An hour later, Derek runs across Stiles’ yard, jumps up, and grabs the awning beneath Stiles’ window and climbs onto the roof. He taps on Stiles’ window, and Stiles shouts. Derek puts his finger up to his lips as Stiles stumbles to the window and lifts it.

“Are you crazy? What are you doing here? How did you even get on the roof?” Stiles whispers. “If my dad finds you, he is gonna be _pissed._ He already doesn’t want me dating you. He thinks you look like a delinquent, and that you are gonna cause me to get arrested.”

Derek snorts and steps close to slide his arms around Stiles’ waist. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For getting you in trouble.”

“Ugh, I believe that was all me,” Stiles says. “I’m the one whose bright idea it was to go fool around at the Preserve.”

Derek nuzzles his face against Stiles’ neck, and he breathes in. “Your dad doesn’t want you dating me, and my mom doesn’t want me dating you.”

“I know, it’s fucked up, right?” Stiles asks.

“Do you care?” Derek asks, lifting his face.

“Oh, hell no.” Stiles grins and Derek kisses him.

*

_**Epilogue** _

“You could stop lying there on my bed looking sexy and, oh I don’t know, help me unpack.” Stiles glares at Derek, and Derek just ignores him and keeps reading the book he’d grabbed from the top of Stiles’ book box a couple of hours ago. It’s Stiles’ first night in his dorm, and Derek was there to help him unpack. Which basically meant he had been reading on Stiles’ bed while Stiles did all the unpacking.

After Stiles pesters him for ten minutes, and then sits on Derek’s stomach and steals the book from him, Derek finally helps him by putting together his bookcase and lamp while Stiles arranges his comic books and bobblehead collection.

Later, they go to across town to Derek’s apartment. They’re lying in tangled sheets, with Derek holding Stiles from behind as he drops kisses along Derek’s shoulders.

“I’m disappointed,” Stiles says. 

“Why?”

“I wanted to christen my dorm bed. Stupid roommate having to come back.”

Derek chuckles and bites the ball of Stiles’ shoulder lightly. “Not exactly the way you want to start off that relationship.” 

“My dad kept glaring around the room when he was there earlier, like he thought you were about to jump out from the closet or something.”

Derek leans close to Stiles’ ear and whispers, “Pretty sure I’ve already come out of the closet.”

Stiles slaps his thigh hard enough to sting. “Stupid, stupid jokes.” Derek laughs, and buries his face between Stiles’ shoulders. “He told me to try and make more friends, and to not spend all my time at your apartment. He’s still not happy I decided to come to Berkeley, too.”

“It’s Berekley, it’s not exactly like you followed me to Beacon Hills Community College,” Derek mumbles. “Besides, you got a scholarship.”

“Tell that to my dad.” Stiles pats Derek’s hand. “He’s coming around, you know.”

“I know.”

“I still wanted to break in my bed.”

“We’ll break it in soon, I promise.” Derek pulls away and sits up. Stiles looks over his shoulder, brow creased. Derek scratches the stubble on his chin absently. “Actually, I’m kinda glad that you’re here. There’s something I want to tell you.”

“Oh god,” Stiles says, shooting up and knocking the blankets to the floor in his haste. “You’re not breaking up with me, are you?”

Derek rolls his eyes. “I’m not even going to deign that with a response.”

“What is it? You have serious-brow on.” Stiles pulls his legs under him, and Derek takes a deep breath. His hands are shaking with nerves, and he knows that after tonight, things will never be the same. But it’s time.

“You know that I love you,” Derek starts.

“Yes,” Stiles replies warily.

“And I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time, but I had to wait for the right time because it’s – “

“Complicated,” Stiles finishes for him. Derek nods. “Oh god, did you used to be a girl? Cause I don’t care, you know. Are you on the run from the Mafia? Is your mom a mob boss? Do you secretly like to wear women’s underwear, because once again, I definitely do not care – “

“I’m a werewolf.”

“Excuse me?” Stiles blinks, and Derek doesn’t even breathe. He’s afraid that he’ll smell a reaction he doesn’t want to, and he just can’t handle the idea that Stiles won’t love him now that he knows.

“I’m a werewolf.”

“Get the fuck out.”

Derek feels like his entire world is crashing down around him, and it must show on his face, because Stiles is suddenly up in his space, with his hands on Derek’s thighs. 

“I didn’t mean to _literally_ get the fuck out, I mean, it’s your apartment. What I meant was like ‘what the fuck do you mean my boyfriend is a werewolf how is that even real oh my god you could have killed me a hundred times yet you just got four hundred percent sexier.’” Stiles cups Derek’s face, and says, “Show me.”

Derek lets his eyes turn blue, and Stiles gasps. Then Derek forces himself to partially shift until his fangs are fully extended. His mouth is open awkwardly with his fangs, and Stiles reaches out and touches one of the bottom ones gently. “This explains so much.”

“Huh?” Derek’s fangs recede and his eyes return back to normal. 

“I thought I imagined your eyes flashing blue over the last year, like it was a trick of the light or something my brain did when I had come-mush for brain.” Stiles lifts a hand to finger a bruise on his collarbone. “So much fucking sense.”

“So, you’re not mad, or repulsed, or scared?” Derek hates feeling this vulnerable, hates having this much of himself out on display, and he now understands why his mother encouraged him to wait. This is the most terrifying moment of his life.

Stiles shakes his head. “No. I mean, I’m a little freaked out and it’s gonna take some getting used to, but I love you.” Stiles reaches out and pulls Derek’s bottom lip down to reveal human teeth. “All of you.”

Derek tackles Stiles to the bed, covering him in kisses. Stiles laughs, and Derek doesn’t hold back when he feels the need to rub himself all over Stiles or to let his wolf out a bit. When he raises his head, Stiles is staring at his eyes. 

“It’s like they’re glowing,” he whispers. “They’re so beautiful.” Derek smiles and blinks his eyes back to normal. “This is why your mom didn’t want you dating me,” Stiles says.

“She didn’t want me dating a human,” Derek explains. “It’s dangerous, in a lot of ways, for us and you.” Derek brushes his hands through Stiles’ hair. “But it turned out pretty good.”

“I like to think so.” Stiles grins, and then he says, “Wait, does she know you told me?”

Derek nods. “I asked her permission. It’s not just my secret to tell; I have to think about my whole Pack. She reluctantly agreed. But next time we’re home, you have to come to a family dinner.”

Stiles groans and buries his face into Derek’s arm. “I hate dinners with your family. Your family is so weird.”

“Werewolves,” Derek grins. “Now maybe you’ll get it. Cora and Laura are pretty excited to initiate you into the Pack.”

Stiles peeks out from Derek’s arm. “Do I even want to know?”

“Probably not.” Derek wraps his arms around Stiles’ waist and moves them into a sitting position. “Don’t worry, I’ll protect. I’m pretty strong, you know.”

“Oh?” Stiles asks, mischievous grin on his face. “Just how strong?”

Derek grins, letting himself shift fully. Stiles is a little surprised at first, but then he drops his head back and laughs. “My boyfriend is a werewolf.” He shakes his head and leans forward to kiss Derek’s wolf face.

It’s moments like these that Derek is really thankful Isaac made him sit at Stiles’ stupid lunch table that day at school.

-fin

**Author's Note:**

> \----> [tumblr](http://thepsychicclam.tumblr.com), if you'd like to say hi :DD


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